


Reach For The Stars

by PriestlyLegion



Category: BattleTech, BattleTech: MechWarrior
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Slow Burn, eventual spoilers, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-05-01 15:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14523651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PriestlyLegion/pseuds/PriestlyLegion
Summary: Ada Gray, exile, Mechwarrior, and shattered soul, is tossed into turmoil after failing to protect her sovereign, the one woman who could have offered her a chance at redemption, from death. Turned into a mercenary without a master, a ronin without her lord, she drifts into shiftless security work, cold and empty as the voids of space she operates in. And for all her comrades-in-arms try, she remains as aloof and miserable as the day she lost her liege. But a mysterious benefactor gives her a new lease on life - drawing her in with a hope she had thought long lost to her heart. As her heart opens and blooms again, she finds herself torn between old loyalties and new friends; between one who had been there for her even when she did not want it, and between one she always wanted to be there for...





	1. Fall From Grace

**Author's Note:**

> No Battletech ships? Well, fine! I'll see these ships sail even if I have to do it myself! I have nothing but a vague idea of where this is going but I've a feeling it's going to be long. Also, I'm not well versed in the lore of the universe; I played M4:Mercenaries and Battletech and that's about it. Oh well! No guts, no galaxy! Feel free to correct or criticize me for bad lore, or, you know, just bad writing. I prefer to know when I'm doing something wrong.

Ada Gray woke in a cold sweat. Her vision was blurred and unsteady; dull metallic colors danced in front of her eyes as a dozen images flashed through her head. The red-hot metal of her own Blackjack's heat sinks failing, Mastiff's stern face on the viewscreen, ordering her to eject, Victoria Espinosa's mech, pounding Mastiff's Centurion with the fury of a thousand suns, and then that final, enclosing darkness as she began to black out, illuminated only by the explosion of missile after missile impacting the dropship she had fought so hard to protect...

"Lady Arano!" Ada gasped, shooting up from the makeshift bed she had been laid on.

"Woah there, easy." A calming, but unfamiliar voice pierced through her consciousness as a hand gripped her shoulder and restrained her from freaking out further.

Her eyes focused and unfocused a few times until she could put a face to the voice - a handsome man perhaps in his late 20s, casually dressed, with a concerned look in his deep brown eyes as he held her shoulder. Ada blinked a few times. "Who are you?"

"I'm Darius Oliviera. We found you in the shadow of that wrecked Dropship. You're lucky to be alive - some of the wreckage missed you by just a few yards."

"The... the Dropship...?" Ada's heart stopped. "But... Lady Arano... she was... she was..."

"On it. She's dead. I'm sorry. The Directorate has been playing the recording of it going down on every broadcast channel."

Dead. Lady Arano was dead. Everything else Darius said flowed past her like a stream around a stone. What did any of it matter? Lady Arano was dead. Her one hope, her one future, her one queen. The only woman who could have brought her redemption. The only woman worth being redeemed for. The only woman worth following in a galaxy of frauds and petty tyrants. How many cruelties had Ada seen perpetuated by those who claimed the right to rule? How many dictators and murderers had clawed their way to power without a single thought as to those they crushed under their heel? But Lady Arano was different. Mastiff convinced Ada of that. She was a light in the darkness, and just as quick as Ada found her, she had to watch her be snuffed out.

All of those dreams she had on the frontier after her exile... gone. Dreams of honor in service, dreams of a greater purpose in life than simple survival, dreams of having a place in the galaxy instead of simply taking up a place. Dashed away with the Directorate's malice. Her face tingled, felt numb, as though she had cried for hours and hours, though not a single tear had crossed her face since she woke.

Darius tried to express his sympathies best he could, but the mercenary trade was etched into his soul. Everything always came back to business. "Your bloodchit says you've got family in the Magistracy. We can drop you off in their borders, though you'll have to chip in your share for lodging, repairs, that sort of thing. Or if you prefer, after that fiasco, we're short on manpower, and your Blackjack is still in working order. You could carve out a place for yourself in the company. You seem like you know your way around a mech."

Ada shook her head. "I can't go to the Magistracy. My parents never even set foot there, and I... I don't really have anyone to go back to." No parents, no nation, no family. Nothing left.

Nothing.

"So you'll stay for the ride?"

Ada nodded weakly.

Darius let her alone to grieve. In the tight confines of the Leopard's Command Center, she caught a glimpse of the navigator's face, looking at Ada out of the corner of her eye, scarred and sad and sympathetic in a way she never would have dared betray in words.

It was all that lent Ada Gray the simple strength to slip into sweet, insensate slumber.


	2. Butterfly's Bullets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lost 3000 words due to a computer crash God I hate my life

The Marauders were desperate.

They'd tried everything. Ever since they lost Commander Markham, they'd been without a permanent commander. Darius was the first to take over - but he was a disaster from start to finish. He was better *with* people than *leading* them. Sumire was too cautious to do anything but tread water, and when the water is rising, that's not good enough. Yang refused to even touch a command position. Probably the smartest choice, but not the most helpful. Voting between the three always ended in deadlock and resentment all around, and inviting the Mechwarriors to join in only made things worse. Sumire, regardless of how the votes went, would outright refuse the more dangerous decisions decided upon, and without her piloting skills, it was an effective veto; and Yang would go red in the face trying to explain the very real, practical restraints of mech repair aboard the Leopard to a bunch of enthusiastic mercenaries who wanted nothing more than to hit the biggest, baddest jobs and make the big C-Bills. Unfortunately, mercenaries often have a sixth sense about the prospects of their outfit, and just about all of them could tell the Marauders were going nowhere fast. The outfit hemorrhaged veterans and couldn't hold onto rookies to save their lives - or their finances.

Who did that leave? Ada Gray, callsign 'Butterfly', an exile twice over, and a broken woman. She had no sense of self-preservation, but she followed orders without question; demanded nothing, accepted everything, without enthusiasm or reluctance. She had lived her life through a dull, emotionless haze ever since the Directorate's coup.

Darius suspected her of being an addict at one point. She always avoided the rest of the team outside of missions, never went on shore leave with the rest of them, always had a dead look in her eye, like no one else even registered in her reality. Growing up on the crowded lower levels of Nassau Heights and spending most of his life babysitting mech jockeys in a ship small enough to rub elbows every time you went to the washroom gave him a somewhat... limited sense of personal space and privacy. So when Ada and the team went on a milk run mission escorting a couple of overly cautious merchants, Darius took the opportunity to give her bunk and locker a thorough search. Predictably, he did find a hidden compartment under her mattress. He thought what he was going to find under it would've been a hefty stash of narcotics or something else suitably concerning to have a talk with her about. Instead, what he found was a VR chip for total auditory and visual sensory deprivation with almost as many hours logged as she'd been with the outfit.

He never mentioned it to anyone. It kind of freaked him out more than hard drugs would have.

Ada Gray was not the ideal candidate for the job. But hell, considering their debt, it was do or die. Even if Ada seemed more keen on 'dying' than 'doing' when she piloted her mech. All that was one last job Darius had sniffed out for them, a little spot of revenge and recovery for a miner's union...

\-----

For Ada, being in command was a novel feeling. It reminded her of her days freelancing in the periphery, choices to be made, no orders to follow, just a job to do and free reign on how to do it. It was... freeing. Like her soul was breathing fresh air after an eternity starved of wind and sun in a prison of its own creation. It felt... good. Even Glitch's normal, overly-cheery demeanor didn't bother her.

The job itself was fairly routine. A couple of low-quality mechs to be trashed, a few defensive turrets to bombard at range, and a corporate sty to demolish. All in a day's work. But it wasn't until they had returned to collect their pay that the taste began to sour in her mouth.

"Good job, Mechwarriors." The leader of the miner's union chirped cheerfully over the comms. "Only now... we're gonna need your BattleMechs."

It took a moment for Ada to register that it wasn't some weird saying or a bad joke. "Like hell." Ada snarled. That spark of anger, of indignation... was a mark of life she had not felt in years.

A couple of armored vehicles rolled out from their hiding places behind the landing pad. "We learned our lesson when those corporate pigs took everything from us. Without mechs, we can't defend what we hold. Let's not make this messy. After all, we've already got our turrets locked to your signatures."

Ada shifted slightly to get a better view of the base and ground her teeth together. She noted an exposed structure near the center, where Dekker's Spider had come to a stop. "Dekker, hit the generat-"

It was too late. The miners were jumpy enough without Ada scanning the base for weaknesses. The turrets' lasers ripped through the Spider's torso and sent Dekker's mech toppling to the ground. Ada cursed under her breath as she unloaded a full salvo on the generator, bracing her mech against the incoming impact of the missile carriers flanking her.

But she wasn't their target. Behemoth was. Her mech was the next fall under a combined volley of turret fire and SRMs into her back. 

Ada had to pour a second salvo into the generator to take it down, cursing how rusty, how  **lazy** she had become. If she had kept in practice, if she had been alert, if she had not let her numb herself for **years**... Glitch's voice came over the comms. "Commander! My mech's leg is-" A burst from the vehicle's cannons sent Glitch stumbling off-balance. Ada turned her attention from the generator to score the swarming vehicles with her autocannons, sweeping across her forward firing arc, and lighting up the damaged vehicles with her lasers, sending two of the three carriers up in flames. The third, seemingly wise to the direction the battle had taken with the turrets shut down, shifted into reverse. A glance from her lasers ripped the treads to bits and sent the retreating vehicle careening into the side of a building, immobilized.

The miner's frantic voice burst over the static. "Wait, wait I-"

Ada switched her comm band off and crunched the carrier beneath the unfeeling heel of her Blackjack. A long silence settled in her cockpit after the last cracks and hisses of the crushed carrier faded into the whistling of the wind and the soft hum of Ada's BattleMech.

"Darius," Sumire's grim voice crackled to life on the comm band. "we need to talk."

\-----

Dekker didn't make it. When they checked his mech, he was just blood and bone. Behemoth didn't fare much better. Not a catastrophic failure. Just a bit of shrapnel and bad luck. Bled out before Sumire even had a chance to touch down. Onboard the Leopard, sitting in the passenger bay, waiting to break through the upper atmosphere, Glitch sobbed uncontrollably. Ada had forgotten how to comfort, or how to be comforted. So she sat there, cursing herself silently, body numb, but soul burning up with guilt.

Her fault... it was all her fault. She should've had a handle on the situation. What was she thinking? Why wasn't she running scans as they approached the base? She should have kept them in formation. She should have-

Yang's muffled voice buzzed over her personal communicator. "Hey Boss, I know this is a bad time, but things are getting pretty heated here."

Ada took a deep breath. "I'll be right there." She looked over at Glitch. What should she say? What could she say? Glitch knew Behemoth and Dekker better than she did. Ada reached out to her... but Ada hardly knew Glitch. She looked at her hand, outstretched towards Glitch's shoulder, and curled it into a tight fist, clenching so hard it hurt. What right did she have? To any of this? What the hell had she been doing? Chest heaving with anguish, Ada could only say, "I'm sorry."

Glitch choked out a sob, wiped her eyes, and shook her head. "N-not... blamin'... anyone..."

Ada stood up. Glitch didn't blame anyone. But maybe she should have.

\----

"This is the periphery!" Darius snapped. "All our employers are gonna be terrible! You think I was looking out for the worst client I could find?" Sumire and Darius were just about at each other's throats.

Sumire passed a hand through her hair and ground her teeth together. "What I think is that we've been on a downward spiral made worse by every job you suggest! We are *trapped* in this sector because you can't judge a client to save your - no, to save **our** lives!"

Ada's voice, quiet but firm, cut through their bickering like a hot knife through butter. "It won't happen again." she said. She looked up at her officers. "It doesn't matter who you took the job from, Darius. We went in on trust. But you can't trust anyone who isn't in a pilot's seat by your side. That was our mistake." Ada took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, they were full of steel. "From now on, we're in and out, like bullets." She stood up. "Like bullets. No lingering. We have a job to do - we do it, and then we're gone."

"Butterfly's Bullets." Darius said approvingly, already designing a new symbol for the outfit in his head.

"Sumire, from now on, I want you touching down hot; as soon as we finish the job, we're extracting, payment be damned. We can always make another drop if we get screwed over. I'd sooner take to the field twice over than let traitors go unpunished." Yang rolled his eyes at her 'noble' bellicosity. Easy for her to say. She wasn't the one who had to pull out chunks of shrapnel and slag metal after every mission.

Sumire straightened up. "Yes, Commander."

"This wasn't your fault. Wasn't anyone's fault. No one's fault but the backstabbing trash choking on their own blood right now." That was the one thing that brought her solace. "But we can't let this happen again. We weren't ready." Her voice softened with guilt. "I wasn't ready." She cast a sorrowful look at each of them. "I wasn't ready to be put in command. I'm sorry. I forgot what it was like to be responsible. To carry the burden. I got too used to... too... afraid to do anything but follow orders." It was a grim determination, mirthless and without hope. Yet for Ada, it was closer to life than she had felt since she failed to protect Lady Arano all those years ago. "I won't lose anyone else. Not to our enemies, not to our 'friends', not to our debtors. I will make sure we overcome. I will be our aegis, no matter what it costs me. You have my word."


	3. Glitched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally back after a two month hiatus. Sorry about that!

Sumire replayed the security tape again.

In it, Ada unloaded clip after clip of her pistol against the armor of the Commando. It didn't do anything, of course, but it was clearly more than just target practice.

Darius, Yang, and Sumire were all gathered around the viewscreen, watching. Was that really how Ada dealt with her problems? It was funny at first, but... concerning later.

Ada dropped to her knees in front of the Mech. She didn't make a sound – the security cams would've picked up on it – but her anguish was audible to Sumire.

“Do you think we should say something?” Darius said.

Sumire shrugged. “What would we even say?”

“'Please don't make my job harder than it already is'?” Yang suggested. He was, of course, ignored.

“You're the one who decided to put her in charge.” Sumire said to Darius. “If she's unstable, that's another bad judgement call on your part.”

Darius ignored the jab. “It could just be her working out some stress. We all do that in different ways.”

“And if she's a hairtrigger's pull away from turning that pistol on us? What then? Are we just acceptable casualties in her search for inner serenity?”

Darius crossed his arms and shook his head. He couldn't claim the best judgement, but hell, he couldn't claim the best circumstances either. “She's been with us for this long. She's never so much as raised a hand in anger outside of a drop.”

“She's been practically catatonic! Now that she's not moping outside of every combat drop she's been twitching like a snapped wire! She's high-strung and ready to snap!”

Two dull raps of a woman's knuckles against hard metal rang out in the cockpit. Ada's eyes traced across the three of them, cold and dull, giving no hint of understanding or ignorance of the topic of their conversation. Sumire's face burned and she turned her attention back to her control panel. “Are we ready to drop?”

Darius cleared his throat and stood up straight. “Yes, Commander. We're ready on your say-so.”

“Consider it said.” Ada tightened the straps on her cooling suit and walked away.

Darius looked back at Sumire. “Is that what you consider high-strung?”

Sumire shot him a glare out of the corner of her eyes. “Absolutely. Beneath the surface she's tensed up. You can practically feel it in the air whenever she's around.”

“Maybe we should invest in a trip to the masseuse.” Yang said dryly. He was, of course, ignored again. It seemed to be his lot in life.

“Just do your job, Sumire.” Darius said. “And the Commander will do her's.”

As Ada entered the cramped loading dock, Glitch noticed her and gave Ada a broad grin and a thumbs-up. “Ready to go, Commander?”

“Ready when you are, Glitch.” She gave Glitch a thin but geniune smile in return. Her optimism was grating at times, but... it was contagious too.

“Really lettin' the new guys go in ahead of me?” Medusa grumbled. He hung around the loading bay like a surly dog kicked by its master, getting underfoot of Yang and his small team over having to miss out on a combat drop yet again. “I can pilot that Shadowhawk better than these kids. You'd've been safer taking me along for the ride.”

“They need to earn their keep.” Ada said. “Besides, no guts, no galaxy, right?”

Medusa muttered something along the lines of a reluctant affirmitive as the red lights begun to flash, warning the remaining Mechwarriors to get in their Mechs.

It should've been an easy mission.

\-----

And, initially, it was. Everything went according to plan. Butterfly's Bullets swept into the base, eradicated the enemy lance and their defenses, and escorted the Capellian convoy to their rendezvous point and extraction shuttle. Bearclaw had his armor stripped bare from the base's turrets and had a few scores on his head, but he insisted it was nothing. Ada was taking no chances, though, as she brought up the rearguard in her Blackjack.

"Going full throttle through the pass. Glitch, get eyes on that ridge. Bearclaw, evac immediately. Adrenaline, set up firing solutions for indirect targeting over those hills and cover me.”

"Almost out of missiles, Commander."

"Just a precaution, Aidan." she said.

Glitch's voice shattered that misconception. “Commander! We've got four – no, five enemy vehicles coming through the woods!”

“I can't get a lock on them, Commander!” Adrenaline said, “They're out of my sensor range!”

“Shit.” Ada muttered. “Glitch, pull back!”

“I... I can't! My Mech can't get any traction!” She was just past the ridge, but the slope was too steep for her to climb back up. At least, not without turning around and exposing her back to the incoming hostiles.

That damn Commando was worthless. Ada made a mental note to scrap it at the first opportunity. “I'm coming, Glitch! Hold on!” Ada pushed her Blackjack to the limit, barreling through trees and stumbling over the rough terrain, long-range autocannon firing with every step, peppering the vehicles with shot.

A barrage of missiles and a volley of autocannon fire from the incoming vehicles tore into the Commando Glitch was piloting, slamming into her core with incredible force. Alarms inside her mech blared as her primary heat sinks shut down. “Commander, I think I'm in trouble...”

Ada looked down at her status display and paled when she saw the readings. “Glitch, you need to eject!”

“No can do, Commander... the mechanism's... ugh... jammed!”

Another autocannon volley tore her right arm off completely, leaving her defenseless and off-balance. The two LRM carriers turned their full attentions to Ada. She swerved behind a rocky outcropping and slid to a halt. “Shit... Glitch, I can't take these things head-on; you have to get down from that ridge!” Ada said, “Once you're down, I can move in reverse and shield you with my Mech... you'll have to move fast-”

Glitch's high-pitched voice crackled to life over the comms, unafraid, but without her usual enthusiasm. "Hey, Commander... it's okay."

That was the worst thing Ada could have imagined hearing. "No, no, no, no, no..." Her voice was quiet, hoarse with despair. She knew what was coming. She knew she was powerless to stop it. And yet, madness demanded she try. She fired everything. Sweat and tears ran down her face. It didn't matter that they were far out of the effective range of most of her weapons. All she needed to do was score their armor, graze their weapons, get their attention, just buy her some time, just buy her some time...

Bearclaw's comm sign popped up. "Commander, you need to vent! Your heat levels are far past the redzone!"

"Like hell!" she snapped. Even her controls were heating up – she could feel the temperature rising to unbearable levels inside the Blackjack. Out of her viewport the metal began to steam and turn red-hot... but Ada couldn't stop. Anything, **anything,** for just a chance...

Glitch's voice was calm. Serene, almost. That made it worse. "You made the right decision. If I wasn't here, they would've-" Her viewscreen went static as an autocannon ripped through her mech's head.

"GLITCH!"

It was an empty word. As empty as the Commando's cockpit.

"Commander,” Adrenaline said, “we need to evac, now!"

Ada considered giving the order to take off without her. To leave her to her failures. It was what she deserved. Maybe what was for the best. How many people had died because of her? How many would die if she continued? To meet her end... that could be a greater blessing to the people she had promised to protect than a thousand of her empty 'victories'...

It was Sumire's voice which cut through her ruminations. "Commander, if you don't get your ass on-board right now, we're all gonna be scrap!" she snapped. "You told me we were gonna evac immediately from now on! I didn't fly through a salvo of anti-air LRMs so you could sit around and mope! Get onboard, and die on your own damn time!"

That snapped her out of it. Whatever she wanted, whatever she deserved, would have to wait. She had enough distance between herself and the carriers to push her way out of the woods without being ripped apart by autocannon fire. Sumire had repositioned dangerously close to the uneven terrain at the base of the ridge to give Ada a better chance of escape.   
When Ada torched her jumpjets and touched down in the Leopard, she felt an overwhelming sense of regret.

It would have been so much easier to die.

\-----

The mission was a 'success', for what little that was worth.

The debriefing was subdued, solemn. Ada hardly seemed to pay attention. Darius could hardly blame her. Losing people was always hard. Darius hadn't ever 'gotten used to it', but he'd come to terms with it. It was better to celebrate their lives and mourn their death than to dwell on what could or should have been. And that wasn't really a lesson that could be taught. Only learned. So Darius left Ada with only a few words of sympathy and an open-ended offer of support if she needed it. Ada just nodded.

They were leaving the system, all expenses paid. Ada had made it a policy to never be without a contract, however minor. With their debts, they couldn't afford down time. Sumire was making the calculations for the approach to the edge of the gravity well later that night when she heard a voice behind her.

“Sumire.”

“Commander?” Sumire's blood ran cold. Was this the part where she snapped and put a bullet in her head? She really regretted calling her high-strung out loud all of a sudden. She twisted around in her seat to see Ada looming in the doorway, casting a pall across the cockpit.

“Do you mind if I... stay here for a while?” Her voice was quiet, meek. “I won't bother you. I just... need time to think.”

“Of... course, commander.” Sumire said cautiously. That wasn't what she was expecting. “Are your quarters leaking coolant again? I can call Yang...”

“No,” Ada half-laughed, but it was a pained, tormented sound. “no, it's just... the last person I want to be alone with right now is myself.”

Sumire didn't know what to say to that. So she didn't say anything. She just kept punching in numbers and making adjustments to their flight path. Ada just sat down on a small bench a few yards behind her, and stared out the side viewport. Perhaps half an hour passed in silence. Eventually, Sumire ran out of calculations to check and adjustments to make. Her choices were to go to bed awkwardly, or interact with Ada Gray, who had not 24 hours ago unloaded her anger in the form of high-velocity 8mm rounds. Decisions, decisions.

Sumire unbuttoned her blue and gray jacket, leaving her white shirt underneath. It was a more... casual look. And not nearly as warm. She took a deep breath and stood up from her chair. “Commander...” she said, walking over and sitting beside Ada, hoping she wouldn't have cause to regret it, “do you need to talk?”

Ada remained silent for a few seconds, and for a moment, Sumire's heart soared with the hope that she was off the hook. Just as quickly, it sank as Ada turned from the viewport and raised her voice just above a whisper. “I didn't know Glitch very well. But she was always kind to me.” she said, and paused. “Sumire, I don't know you very well.”

Sumire hesitated. Was she about to become a replacement goldfish for an unstable child? “I don't know that I'm the kind... kind.” she said nervously.

“I know that much.” Ada almost smiled. It reached her eyes, but didn't have enough energy to lift her mouth. “But...” The look in Ada's eyes faded, and her shoulders dropped with the weight of a dozen lives. “I'm tired of sleepwalking through life. All I get are nightmares. If I'm going to suffer, I may as well be awake for it.” She realized how strange that must have sounded, and shook her head. “Sorry, I don't mean for this to be weird.”

Apologizing for being awkward. It was a small gesture, but... maybe Ada wasn't as detached from reality as Sumire thought. “It's alright.” Sumire sighed, stretched her arms behind her head, and leaned back. “What do you want to know?”

Ada's questions were soft-spoken, gentle, innocent. Where did Sumire come from? What was her family like? How did she become a pilot? And Sumire answered, without predisposition. That she was from a poor noble family, that she came from a planet with far too many damn birds, about her time in school and how she came to the Marauders – or rather, Butterfly's Bullets. It was cathartic in a way she didn't expect, opening up about her life to a woman who was almost a complete stranger to her. To hear her simple, sincere reactions and interest. It made Sumire feel...something. Amicability, perhaps. A sense of, if not friendship, at least friendliness. And so, when Sumire had exhausted all matters of her own life, she repaid the favor, and asked about Ada.

Ada opened up like she hadn't in years. She surprised herself. It wasn't her intention. It was like a torrent bursting forth, a pressure that had built that she didn't even realize was there. About her background, her upbringing, her taste in literature... about how her family had disowned her over an incident of honor, how she worked as a mercenary in the periphery for years, how Mastiff offered her a place back in the Reach, and why she eagerly took such a quiet position. Because she thought she could do some good, however small, for once.

Sumire felt guilt over her suspicions. It wasn't the intensity of her position that had put Ada on edge. It was her own feeling of duty, of _noblesse oblige,_ to protect those she saw as her own. If she had any anger in her, the only person it was directed towards was herself.

“All I wanted... was to work for something. Help someone. Not leave this life with nothing but wreckage in my wake.” Ada said, “When Darius put me in charge... I thought... maybe that was a second chance.” She paused for a moment. Then, quietly, “I guess I was wrong.”

“You've done the best you can.” Sumire realized how bad that sounded, and corrected herself. “The best anyone could have.”

“Is that why Glitch is dead? Is that why Behemoth and Dekker died?” Ada asked, bitter and quiet. “If there was anyone else... they'd've done better.”

“That wasn't your fault.” Sumire said. She had, in fact, strong opinions that it was in no small part Darius' fault, but she knew better than to lay the guilt at his feet. It helped no one. “This still can be your second chance. Do you think we ended up here because we made great decisions in life? Me, Darius, Yang?” She laughed a little. Not a happy laugh, but a laugh.

“Better decisions than me. All I ever seem to make are bad decisions. Decisions that hurt everyone around me.”

“No one else in your place would be some godlike savior.” Sumire said. “Sometimes... sometimes we make bad decisions. It can't be helped.” She took a long look at Ada. “We're only human. We're imperfect, and we make imperfect choices. That's all of us, you, me, Darius, Yang...”

“That would mean more if people didn't die every time I was imperfect.”

"Commander...” she said softly, “you can't save everyone."

"It seems I can't save anyone." Ada said bitterly. "But that's how it's always been."

Sumire hesitated for a moment, and then against her better judgement, asked, "What do you mean?"

"What business is that of your's?" Ada snapped.

She had touched a nerve she didn't realize was sore. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, you didn't." Ada said tersely, and stood up, refusing to even look in Sumire's direction. "I would appreciate it if you would continue to 'not' in the future." She walked down the hallway and closed the door to her quarters behind her.

Sumire stood up, sighed, and poured herself a cup of coffee as she settled in for the long haul, making the final approach vector to the JumpShip. She had seen enough pilots as wrecked as their mechs to know when to drop it. Seeing it was almost routine, like making a drop in a combat zone, or picking up the cored out remains of a mech as salvage. Besides, it wasn't her job to save anyone.

And even if it was... Sumire took a long look at the hall Ada has disappeared down... even if it was, Sumire wasn't sure she could.

For some reason... that hurt.

 


	4. False Positive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to mention that I love all of you who commented for commenting! You give me the strength and warm fuzzy feelings I need to continue this! I just never know how to respond to anyone but I read comments a thousand times over with a smile on my face!
> 
> I love all of you who kudosed too! And everyone who reads this fic in general! But commenters most of all. I do play favorites.

****“Does she think we can't hear her down there?” Yang muttered.

Sure enough, Ada's bloodcurdling screams had made sleep a dubious proposition some nights for the engineers. The security tape recording the trio had gathered around to watch left no illusions about that.

“Even idle, the mech bay is absurdly loud.” Darius said, “You're just used to it.” He crossed his arms as the recording's audio glitched out with Ada's frustrating screaming. “If she wants to blow off steam by screaming... there are worse ways to go about it, y'know?”

“Maybe it'd be worth the C-bills to invest in a therapist onboard.” Yang said, only half-joking.

“She needs help.” Sumire said quietly.

“What do you want me to say?” Darius growled. He was unusually sensitive to the subject since Sumire's last barrage of criticism. “That I didn't pick a perfect person to lead this outfit?”

Sumire cradled her arms and looked off distantly at nothing in particular, absorbed in her own thoughts. “No. I think she's hurting.”

Darius' shoulders sagged with the ultimate defeat – being unopposed. “She's hurting in a way we can't heal.” he said, exhaustion in his voice. “She's hurting in a way all of us have.”

Yang sighed. “Yeah, the age-old Mechwarrior remedy of 'drinking and starting fights' ain't actually all that effective.”

Ada insisted on scrapping the Commando after Glitch died. She couldn't even bear to look at it. It was understandable, even if Darius argued long and hard against it. Losing two Mechwarriors in it was a hard pill to swallow. Especially since Ada blamed the weight and power distribution of the Mech for Glitch being unable to climb back up the ridge she slipped down when the missile carriers surrounded her.

Darius would never have said it out loud around her, but... things were looking up for the company. They were making their debt payments on time, taking on new Mechwarriors, buying up parts... and they even had a little extra in the bank for emergencies.

And now, a mysterious benefactor offering to pay the company's debts. It was almost too good to be true. Darius cast a glance over to the viewscreen monitoring the lance planetside. “Looks like they're coming up on the LZ.” Darius said. “You should probably take us in.”

“I set it to autopilot before we put the recording on. We should be there in about two minutes now.” Sumire switched off the security cam recording and brought up the manual controls for the Leopard to make the final approach. There was little need for such delicate attentions considering how thorough Ada was about eradicating every trace of opposition forces before heading to the predetermined rendezvous point. Darius once compared her style to an infantrywoman clearing a house room by room.

The Mechwarriors boarded the Leopard with no complications. Darius debriefed Ada, went over the results with her, discussed weaknesses of the team and possible solutions. There was a coldness in the air at first, as Ada tactically ignored Sumire over the course of the debreifing.

Then she saw the look Sumire gave her. It wasn't what she expected. Not resentment. Not dismissal. Just... concern.

She couldn't hold onto her anger. Maybe in the face of anger, hate; in the face of the opposition of the whole of the universe, but not in the face of empathy. When Darius finished up and left, Ada remained. She knew she smelled of sweat and oil and propellant... but... Ada walked up beside Sumire. “I didn't mean to snap the other night. It was... unfair of me.” Sumire had opened up so... and Ada had opened up in turn. It felt so... low, and hypocritical to have rebuked her for asking a simple question, however painful the memory might be.

Sumire looked surprised for a moment. “It's fine, commander. I understand.”

Ada leaned on the control panel, careful not to sit on anything that could send them into a death spiral, and mused for a few minutes. The only sound in the cockpit was the soft hum of the Leopard. At last, Ada asked hesistantly, “Do you remember Lady Arano?”

“She was... the noblewoman you were serving under when we found you, right?” Sumire said, glancing over from her controls for a second, “The one who got overthrown in the coup?”

Ada nodded. “Killed. I think about her every day still.” she said. A brief pause, and then, “I never did much with my life. Spent years shooting people for money in the periphery. Not living; dying, but not dead. Like I was when this outfit first took me on.” She stared up at the ceiling and tried to summon the strength to go on. “But... she showed me something different.” A deep breath. “Mastiff... he was my teacher when I was young. He was the one who found me again. Told me that I could live a different life, that I didn't have to burn myself out on autocannon fumes. He told me that I could serve a greater purpose. That there was room for me in Lady Arano's bodyguard. It was a generous offer for someone who was a barely a step above a common criminal. But Mastiff always believed in me. I never knew why.

But I was stubborn. I... I had spent so long dying that I didn't want to live. Didn't even remember what it was like to live. I was bitter, and angry, and... alone in all the universe. I told him that I never met anyone in power who wasn't a petty tyrant. But he convinced me just to meet her. And...” Ada searched for the right words for a few seconds. Staring at the wall, avoiding eye contact with Sumire to quell her self-consciousness, she said, “They always tell tales, of heroes and villains. Every planet, every culture. Of great tyrants who hypnotise the masses and great heroes who rally the people against them. Of the dangers of following, and the beauty of leading. When I met her, I didn't know which one she was, and I didn't care. She had such a natural strength about her. I couldn't help it. I was her footsoldier from day one. When she spoke, when she walked, when she … there... there was power. Real power, the kind I'd never seen before. I wanted to be a part of it. Like a moth to the flame.” she spoke with awe in her voice, like a woman who had seen a miracle. “Even if it consumed me, burned me up... to be a part of something so brilliant, so grand... even to alight as fuel for a greater fire, wasn't that worth more than a lifetime of vacuous existence? To burn bright for just a moment?

The most astounding thing about her was... she made me believe.” Ada shook her head, trying to clear the fog of wistfulness and pain. “I was fine with following. At being by her side, by something great. Someone great. I didn't care if she was an ideologue or an exploiter. But she made me believe she was a hero. She didn't sit me down and indoctrinate me into it. She didn't give me any long-winded speeches. She just... was. When you heard her speak, you would swear it came from somewhere deep in her soul. When she looked over what would become...” Ada paused, memories of the coup flooding over her. “... what was supposed to become her domain, her patrimony... you could see worlds build in triumph, and fall in despair. How she wanted to lead her people to glory, and defend them from harm. You could see the passion in her eyes, but also the fear. The burden of rule, and the devotion to it. In her words, in her concerns, in what she did, how she prepared for rule... I'd never met someone with that kind of animus, that vital spirit. Nor with the kind of open-hearted selflessness she embodied. I've never met anyone like her since.”

A silence passed between them. Ada laughed softly and shook her head. “I'm sorry, I must sound like a lovestruck schoolgirl.”

Sumire had long-since abandoned the Leopard to autopilot, and had been watching Ada reminisce, entranced by the intensity of her emotion. “She sounds like she was worth following.” Sumire said gently.

Ada sighed. It was... exhausting to remember. To have been. To remember she was a part of a universe that had so cruelly snuffed out its brightest light. “I've been... very tense.” she said, “High-strung. I mean that unironically; you were right to say so before.”

Sumire's face burned. She had feared that Ada had overheard her before when she spoke in... unflattering terms about her. “Commander....” That seemed so impersonal for such a delicate matter. “Ada...” she said, “You have to deal with so much. I was venting. I know your heart is in the right place.” Of course, Sumire didn't feel like she knew that at the time. But Ada didn't have to know that.

“Is that truly enough?” Ada shook her head sadly. “I don't want to lose anyone else. But I don't know what to do.” She crossed her arms and looked away. “Caution can kill as surely as bravado. Glitch died because I was trying to be cautious. Behemoth and Decker, because I was reckless, not thinking. How do I make the right decisions?”

Sumire was intensely uncomfortable at that question. “I don't know.”

“I don't know either.” Ada said softly. “All I can think is... if there are risks, I have to be the one to take them. If anyone is going to be lost... it won't be because I failed to act. I said I would be our aegis, months ago. I realize now how literal that must be in order to be true.”

“Just remember, Ada... You're a member of this outfit too. You have to protect yourself as well if you want to keep that promise.”

She smiled and shook her head. It was a nice sentiment... but not one Ada saw the point of. She put a hand on Sumire's shoulder and looked at her with infinite gratitude in her eyes. To someone she felt was... as close to a friend as she had ever had. She turned to leave, but thought of something and stopped just before the hall. “Hey, Sumire?” she looked back at Sumire. “Thank you for listening. It means a lot to me.”

Sumire smiled warmly. “Anytime, Commander.”

Ada wasn't that bad beneath it all.

\-----

“Everyone have their helmets on? Suits sealed?” Ada checked her own as she spoke. A series of affirmatives answered her. “Good. If I say eject, you eject. No questions asked. You can survive out here on the oxygen rebreather for up to half an hour. So if things go bad, just keep low and keep us updated on your position. Stay in the shade – the heat will cook you in your suit if you stay exposed.”

It was a long time in the making, but their mysterious benefactors had called in their favor on some godless moon in the middle of nowhere, past, of all things, a pirate jump point. Darius and Yang remained on their employer's ship for the mission, while Sumire piloted the Leopard, filled to the brim with engineers and marines. She let the lance off outside of the sensor range of the pirate base, let them proceed 'on foot' so to speak to make the assault.

Ada went over the plan again as they approached. “Succubus, I want you on the prowl. Flank around from the right side of that turret after Adrenaline launches the LRMs. Bearclaw, you're with me. Keep those autocannons hot; fire at all targets of opportunity.”

“Copy that, Commander.” Bearclaw said in his characteristic thick accent and deep voice.

“Once we're in, we'll take down the sensors and Sumire'll drop off Dr. Murad and her team. Current plan is to extract on the Argo, but if things go bad, we meet back here with Sumire. Understood?” Another series of affirmatives answered her. “Alright. Let's move!”

They entered the sensor range of the base a full sprint. There was no hesitation, no delay. They had to strike like lightning. In an instant, two turrets had been ripped to shreds by a full complement of missiles from Adrenaline in the Shadowhawk. The comms buzzed to life as the pirate leader shouted and cursed at her subordinates.

Succubus fired as she moved around the small hill outside of the base, scorching the first sensor array to slag, while Bearclaw and Ada drew the fire of the turrets and battered them in response. After some more cursing intercepted on the comms band, two more turrets emerged from the pirate base. “Succubus, we've got new hostiles, pull back around and regroup!”

Succubus manuevered the Locust to get a better angle on the turret. “Just a minute Butterfly, I've almost got this...”

“No, you don't.” Ada's voice brooked no opposition. “Fall in formation. We cover each other on the advance.”

She sighed and pulled her Locust back to the rest of the lance at a sprint. “Yes, Commander.”

Ada's Blackjack could take the new turrets' fire better than the lightly armored Locust could. And her array of weaponry could tear them apart much faster than the light lasers equipped on the smaller Mech. “The sensors are down!” Ada said as she pushed forward into the valley where the Argo had crashed, “Sumire, you've got a short window before they manually recalibrate the AAs!”

“Copy that, Commander. I'm coming in now.” Sumire touched down lightly and took off as soon as the last boots had hit the ground from the Leopard. Dr. Murad and her team wasted no time in breaching the Argo. She had studied the ship's schematics intensively, planned and drilled with her team to the point where she almost intuitively knew where all the ships components were. Assuming, of course, they were still there.

The fighting was vicious in the guts of the Argo; no less vicious than the opposition Ada's lance had encountered in the valley. Autocannons roared and lasers scored across ancient machines and modern metal, with Ada at the forefront of it all.

“Dr. Murad!” Darius' voice buzzed to life, “What's your status? Do you have the engines running?”

The sound of a firefight echoed in Dr. Murad's response. “I let you do your job; you let me do mine!”

Darius nervously examined the status of all the Mechwarriors. The fighting on the moon was fiercer than any other job they'd had to do. He regretted not being able to send more Mechs down in the Leopard to support the lance. His fear was unfounded, as far as Ada was concerned, who finished off the last of the pirate mechs with a single stomp to the cockpit.

“The engines are working!” Dr. Murad said, “Let's get out of here!”

Succubus was stripped of her armor, Bearclaw was limping, Adrenaline was out of missiles and about as much use as a fifty ton paperweight. Ada steadied her mech and said, “I'll stay here and cover your flank, keep them off the AAs. The last thing we need is the Argo getting shot down mid-flight. You three get on the Argo. Sumire, get ready to pick me up at our deployment point, out of range of the base.”

“Got it, Commander.”

She sprayed the few remaining pirates with machinegun fire, still scattered around the makeshift shantytown they had constructed around the Argo. The buildings slid off like loose earth in a landslide as the Argo sluggishly pushed itself away from the crater it had made. It had a strange kind of beauty to it. Life risen from decay. Rot stripped from the bones of a beast once thought dead. For a few minutes, there was an almost peaceful silence as she watched the Argo drift away, engines silent to Ada's ears, nothing but the hum of her Mech to serenade her.

Darius' heart skipped a beat. “Commander! You have three contacts closing on your position – big ones! Shit...”

Succubus checked the sensor relay from Darius to confirm. “Dammit! I knew I should've stayed! Butterfly can't take them all on her own!” Succubus strapped herself back into her mech almost immediately. “I can feather my jumpjets-”

“From that height? You'll kill yourself!” Darius said, “We'll load you onto the Leopard and redeploy!”

“We won't make it in time!” Succubus said irritably.

“We will!” Darius snapped. “Commander, can you hear me? Just stay alive!”

Ada looked down at her controls with a dull, dead look. She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was ready. She took a broad, sturdy stance, and warmed up her primary weapons as the three pirate mechs emerged over the ridge.

“Sumire, reset your flight path to a parralel course with the Argo's cargo bay. If you keep the Leopard stable and angle her right, you should be able to catch Succubus when she jumps from the Argo. It's a risk, but it's the fastest way down.”

“Copy that.” Sumire said, against the cries of her conscience. She couldn't fight the feeling that Succubus was right – that they wouldn't be fast enough to save Ada.

The three pirate Mechs battered Ada as she took slow, lumbering steps back on the uneven lunar terrain. They had her outgunned and outmatched. All Ada could do was stall for time, and with her ammunition running low and her armor burning away, time was not on her side.

Sumire looked at the ETA. Four damn minutes. Then four minutes back... plus the time Succubus would need to walk to Ada's position. Yet Sumire was almost directly overhead Ada... “Screw it.” she muttered, and pulled the Leopard into a dive. “Forget the redeployment, Darius! I'm going in.”

“Are you crazy? We haven't finished the bombardment! The anti-air launchers on the far side of that lunar ridge are still active! You'll be torn apart if you try to get in that close! There's a reason you had to drop the lance halfway across the lunar plain!”

“I can make it into the crater where the Argo was. If I'm fast enough, I can get out of the AA's field of fire and pull up right beside Ada. Once I'm in the crater, I'm safe!”

“That's crazy! Either you go too slow and get shot down, or you go too fast and smash yourself against the rocks with a landing like that!”

“I've got this.” She raised her voice and signalled Ada's comm band in case she had tuned out of the command frequency. “I'm coming in to extract you, Commander! Just hold on!”

“Don't.” Her voice was eerily calm. Even. “This is it, Sumire.”

“I won't let you die, Ada! Just hang in there!” Sumire wouldn't accept that. Couldn't accept it. “I can sweep into the valley, just over where the Argo used to be. If you move fast... I can save you.”

“It's okay.” Ada grunted as another salvo hit her Mech and red warning lights lit up her cockpit. “It's okay.”

That was the worst thing Sumire could have imagined hearing. The blood drained from her face as she pushed the Leopard as fast as it could go.

“You can't save everyone.” Ada sighed and smiled. Genuinely smiled. “Sometimes... sometimes we make bad decisions. It can't be helped.” She raised her eyebrows. “What's one more to my record?” The Blackjack rumbled with the impact of half a dozen missiles, and Ada did her best to calm her racing heart. Her voice wavered. “At least this one can be the last.”

Sure enough, as Darius had warned, the launchers on the ridge had locked onto Sumire's signal as she approached. She knew as soon as they fired that they'd intercept her before she even got close. She had no choice but to pull up and hit her jammers in the upper atmosphere to short their targeting. “Shit!” Tears welled up in her eyes and she ground her teeth together in anger and frustration. She should have known better. She pushed hard on the Leopard's controls and brought her into a dive again, lower, faster, giving her less time to pull up before the surface. “I'm making another run, Commander! Ada, can you hear me? Don't give up!”

Ada grunted as focused fire from the three ripped her left leg to shreds. Her retreat slowed to a crawl as her Blackjack limped backwards. The onboard AI informed her of multiple system failures in the damaged limb, and reminded her that her coreward armor was turning into slag from the concentrated laser fire she was enduring. The last few shots left in her autocannon, mercifully, blew off the leg of the smallest of the three mechs, leaving it twitching on the ground as its servos futilely tried to reorient without the benefit of locomotion.

“Sumire....” Ada was acutely aware that what she said next would probably be her last words. Her heart swelled with fear, but... also... “Thank you. For being awake with me.”

“I'm almost there!” Sumire cried out, “I'm almost there!” She was past the firing arc of the AAs. All that was left to do was pull up before smearing herself all over the surface and rescue Ada.

Ada's Mech ran red-hot, on the verge of a shutdown. She pivoted on her heel and burned through the exposed core of the mech flanking her, sending it down in sputtering flames, weak and anemic in the low-oxygen lunar atmosphere. But that volley was the last she had in her. The last motivator subsystems shut down, and even the red warning lights turned off. She was a stationary target. Easy prey. The pirate leader lifted her arm to line up a nice, precise shot on the Blackjack.

Sumire punched in the solution for her LRMs, even though taking her attention from a dive like that was reckless beyond belief. She had to throw that last Mech off, unbalance it, stop it from taking those last few shots. Sumire was so distracted she almost didn't pull up in time. The missiles launched. But the autocannon fired. And the Blackjack's head was gone.

The fall of the pirate leader was small comfort in comparison.

Sumire sat there in shock. She felt numb. The ringing of small arms fire against the hull of the hovering Leopard didn't even register. The comms band was dead silent. Like no one could believe what just happened.

Ada Gray was dead.

There was a dull ringing in her ears. A buzzing in her temples. All the universe seemed smaller for what just happened. She let her head fall back against the headrest of her seat. The very air felt heavy and oppressive. Her chest heaved, and a pit dropped from her throat into her stomach. Her eyes naturally drew downward, as though looking into hell.

But on the way, they passed the lance's status viewscreen. A spark of life reentered her spirit. She jerked forward and put her hands on the dashboard, pulling at the straps keeping her in her seat. “Her life signs... they haven't flatlined.”

Darius didn't like the hint of hope he heard in her voice. Hope was dangerous, and usually false. “Sumire, don't you dare!” he said, “You know those things aren't reliable, and there are at least a hundred heavily armed pirates between you and that wreck! Look, her lifesigns haven't even flinched! Do you know how unlikely that is? We need to clear the area from orbit before we can land!”

“By then it'll be too late!” Sumire snapped.

“Just because the Mechs are gone doesn't mean it's safe!” he said, “You can't risk your life on a false positive! I won't lose two people on the same day!” Not again. As much as he tried to bury it...

She didn't care. “I'm going in.”

A woman's voice, unknown to Sumire, buzzed over the radio. “Copy that. We'll cover you from orbit. Do what you must.”

Even through the thin lunar atmosphere, the light weaponry on their employer's ship lost so much of its energy by the time it reached the surface that it would have been little more than an annoyance to a Battlemech, but it was enough to keep infantry concerned and, more importantly, away from the Leopard. The last thing they needed was pirates stealing their only transportation.

Sumire landed the Leopard, keeping the jets idling even as it sat on the rough lunar rock. She pulled the safety belts off of herself and dashed out of the cockpit, stopping only to seal her flightsuit and grab a low-atmosphere helmet.

She hopped out from the loading bay, stumbling as she hit the ground in the low-gravity environment. She broke into an unsteady run towards the massive hulk of the Blackjack. Sporadic fire from the pirates left on the ground peppered the rock around her. She wondered what the hell she was doing. Her sight narrowed – the Blackjack's smoking corpse was all that mattered. Her feet hit the rock with rhythmic precision as she sped into a full sprint, not even bothering to slow down. She just slammed into the arm of the Blackjack with her shoulder and caught herself on a jutting once-functional barrel.

Behind the wreckage of the Blackjack, she gasped for air, suddenly claustrophobic in the confines of her helmet. Tears streamed down her face – fear, adrenaline, anxiety. Her mouth felt unbearably dry, and every lungful of air she sucked down felt thin and insufficient. Still, she took only a few brief moments to catch her breath before struggling up the side of the Battlemech and sliding down towards the cockpit, catching herself on hardpoints along the way. The more she saw of the damage, the more she was convinced all she would find was a puddle of blood, ready to be rinsed out of the Blackjack with a hose.

And that's exactly what she found.

There was nothing left of the cockpit. Blown apart by rounds as large as it was. Blood smeared across its wreckage, gently boiling in the heat and low pressure of the moon.

Her shoulders dropped. She felt sick. Ready to retch. But more than that, empty. Everything she did... all for nothing. Darius was right. Why did he have to be right?

In the shade of the Blackjack, she slumped down, too cored out to cry.

All that hope, for nothing. All that fear, confirmed. It was like being hit with a bullet. “Sumire? Sumire! Are you hit? You just dropped! Dammit, answer your comlink! Sumire!”

She looked side to side. What the hell was the point of answering? She might as well just drag her sorry ass back to the Leopard and take off. She put her hand to her helmet to activate the comlink manually. She saw a hand hanging out of the wreckage, and almost puked.

The hand... was still attached. Was that more gruesome or less? She reached out to touch the hand, as though to apologize to Ada for being too late to save her.

And it tensed.

She leapt to her feet. “Ada? Ada!” She pulled the wreckage over the cockpit aside with a grunt and let it slide down to the side. **Ada** was still attached. She grabbed her face and tilted it to the side. She was breathing. She was **breathing**. A piece of jagged metal jutted out from the Blackjack and had pierced through her thigh, and her left arm was twisted in a way it probably shouldn't have, but she was **alive**. Her tracker, sure enough, **was** broken – caught in a feedback loop giving a false positive. She was nowhere near as unharmed as it claimed. But it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered.

The voice from before buzzed over the comms, calm, but somewhat subdued, distant. “We can't keep this barrage up much longer, Ms. Meyer.” she said, “You need to return to the Leopard before our cooling systems overload.”

“She's alive!” Sumire stammered, almost unable to believe it herself. “Ada's alive! She-she's hurt, but...”

There was a shocked pause from the other end of the comlink. Then, with renewed vigor, “Copy. We'll keep firing until our barrels fuse, if we need to. Get her back on the Leopard and rendezvous with us.”

She didn't know how the hell she was going to do that. Ada's leg was impaled on a piece of jagged, scorched wreckage. She looked around, hoping for something that would help her. What could have helped her, she wasn't sure. Heart racing, she thought she was screwed, until she noticed part of the Blackjack's arm had been melted off by laser fire. Exactly the inspiration she needed. She took out her sidearm, pointed it at the junction where the wreckage impaling Ada's thigh was connected to the rest, and fired. The laser burned through the metal only incrimentally. It would have to do. She fired again, and again, making progress like an earthworm squirming across a road after a fresh rain, bit by agonizing bit.

“C'mon!” She shook the gun, as if that would vent it faster. The thin lunar atmosphere made it hard for heat to dissipate normally. She had probably fired it more then than she had in all the time she had owned it. After about two dozen shots, the metal had been melted away enough to detach from the rest of the wreck.

She took a long look at the chunk of metal remaining, still punched through both her thigh and the other side of the Mech. She gritted her teeth. “I'm sorry, Ada.” she whispered, and pulled her thigh up from the ground.

That was enough to jolt Ada back to consciousness for a few moments, screaming in blinding agony. She feebly grasped for her leg, too weak to sit up, too weak to move her head, almost too weak to move her arm. Only after a few horrific cries did the pain make her fade back into merciful oblivion.

Sumire wasted no time in repeating her makeshift metallurgy method, holding Ada's thigh up to keep it out of the way of the laser as she scorched the metal away bit by bit. And eventually, the wreckage there gave way as well. Ada still had a big chunk of former-BattleMech in her. But she was free.

Sumire hoisted her in a firefighter's carry. Even at 3/4s standard gravity, Ada in her cooling suit and with a decent-sized chunk of metal sticking out of her thigh was well over 100 pounds, and Sumire struggled under the burden. At first her stumble was slow and ungainly, but she picked up speed as the adrenaline coursed through her blood. She was alive. Ada was alive. And Sumire was damn sure she was going to keep it that way. Small arms fire from the pirates sprayed at her as she emerged from the cover of the Blackjack, projectiles and lasers dancing around her like fireflies on a warm summer night. She didn't care. She pushed forward with all of her might, arms bracing Ada and keeping her steady as she carried her.

Only about a dozen yards away from the Leopard, a stray round punctured Sumire's suit and burrowed into her left ankle. She stumbled and crumpled up on the ground, barely able to keep hold of Ada on her shoulders.

“Sumire!” Darius' voice was filled with a fear she'd never heard from him before. Fear of losing who he thought lost once already.

She felt the suit puff up and reseal the breach. The pressure made the pain a little more bearable. But she couldn't put any weight on it. “Shit...” she muttered. It didn't matter. It couldn't matter. Not when she was so close.

Sumire dragged herself along with one working leg and the balance of her right arm. Her left clung to Ada, keeping her weight distributed across her shoulders. All she asked the capricious and unknown fates that ruled the universe was that Ada not be shot while Sumire carried her. The sick irony of that would have driven her irrevocably into madness.

The fates, capricious and cruel as they were, granted her request just that once. Sumire dragged Ada onboard the Leopard, strapped her into an engineer's workstation, and pulled herself up by the railings, supporting herself as she limped at a furious pace back towards the cockpit. Sumire threw herself into the pilot's seat and hit the thrusters. “She's hurt! It's bad, it's... it's... there's blood everywhere! She needs immediate medical attention! T-there's a big p-piece of... of... Mech in her thigh...”

“Acknowledged. The med bay is operational. We'll be ready for her.” The same mysterious woman from before spoke up on the commlink. “And you as well, Ms. Meyer.”  
\----

Ada's wounds were far worse than just the chunk of metal lodged in her left thigh. Ribs were cracked, her left leg swollen and damaged from ebullism, her left arm shattered on impact. Over half of her blood had been lost. They had to operate on her immediately. It was touch and go.

Sumire's wound was minor in comparison. A snapped bone and a little chunk of lead to pull out. Nothing modern medical facilities struggled with. She would make a full recovery.

“What were you thinking?” Darius said. “Were you trying to get killed?”

Yang shook his head. It was all crazy, really. The world turned upside down. But... results were results.

“She would have done the same for us.” Sumire said coldly. Even if it wasn't out of affection, even if it was guilt and duty, Ada would have done the same for anyone on board.

Affection... is that why Sumire took that risk? Because she was a friend? The same woman she had doubted the sanity of not more than a month ago. She mused on that outside of the medbay door, waiting for news on Ada's condition.

The doctor hired by their employers emerged from the medbay and closed the door behind him. “She's regained consciousness.” he said as he pulled he surgical mask off. “We don't know what kind of long-term damage there'll be, but in an immediate sense, she's fine. She may have to lose the arm depending on how things develop. I understand that you want to see her, and I've been instructed not to stop you, but do **not** tax her, physically or emotionally. No physical contact, nothing. The slightest strain could damage her severely at this point. She's lucky to even be alive.”

Sumire had moved surprising fast for a woman with a broken ankle and was smashing the 'open door' button before he had finished his first sentence. Darius was close behind her, and Yang behind him, trying to restrain the first two.

Ada looked ungodly pale, drained of blood, a poor look for her swarthy complexion. Her eyes looked tired, burned out. But a weak smile crossed her face when she saw everyone huddled around her. In a voice almost too quiet to hear, she said, “... hey Sumire...”

That was enough. That was enough. Sumire broke into tears, with big, ugly sobs. All of it came flooding out. She was sorry, she was happy, she should have been faster, she hated her, she would have killed her if she died... every single thought that had crossed her mind in the time between that autocannon ripping through the Blackjack and that moment. The doctor seemed to be arguing with someone over the intraship comms, but Sumire paid him no mind.

Only his physical presence beside them snapped her out of her incoherent blubbering. “You have another visitor.” he said bitterly.

The medbay door opened, and their mysterious benefactors were revealed.

Despite all the attempts of the medical personnel to keep her down, Ada struggled to her feet. She stumbled to the door. She fell to a knee. And she kissed her employer's hand and put it to her forehead, tears running down her face. Voice thick with emotion and pain of every kind, all she could croak out was, “My lady...”

 


End file.
